


Dead In The Water Epilogue

by Sam4265



Series: Inverse Operations [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Older Sibling Sam, Younger Sibling Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 03:43:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10733427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam4265/pseuds/Sam4265
Summary: Dead In the Water epilogue, in which Dean is eighteen, and Sam is twenty-two.





	Dead In The Water Epilogue

Sam walked into the motel room completely exhausted. Their most recent hunt, a haunting in Lake Manitoc, had been a tasking one. Not physically, neither of them had sustained any real injuries, but emotionally it had been bad. A particularly vengeful ghost of a little boy who had been drowned several years ago by the town sheriff and his friend was coming back to kill everyone involved with the drowning, but not before he killed their loved ones. 

Sam and Dean had managed to save the sheriff’s daughter and grandson, but the man himself had been killed. Drowned by the young boy he’d accidentally killed years before. The spirit was gone, and the woman and her son were all right though. Thank God for small favors.

More than that though the boy had lost his father before Sam and Dean had gotten there, and Dean had connected to him. Talking about how he’d lost his mom before he’d even gotten to know her. Sam had been particularly pissy the day before the hunt and had argued with Dean over their Dad too, so Dean had had a very emotionally tasking few days. 

Sam dumped his duffle bag on the bed just as Dean walked in. Dean put his duffle down, and for a moment just stood there with his back to Sam, not saying a thing. Eventually he turned around and Sam noticed how anguished his face was. It made Sam physically ache for his little brother. Dean looked so completely distraught, and more than a little sad. 

He sat down on the bed with his head bowed and Sam sat across from him. He waited while Dean gathered himself. Sam knew there was something Dean wanted to say, but wasn’t sure if he should say it. Finally Dean’s head rose and he looked at Sam.

“Sammy?”

“Yeah Dean?”

“What was mom like?” 

That one hit Sam clear out of left field, though in all honesty it shouldn’t have. Sam smiled a sad smile. Dean had been six months old when their mother had burned on the ceiling above his crib, and Sam had been 4. He didn’t remember their mother as much as their father did, or as much as he’d like to, but he was the only one who’d ever answer Dean’s questions when he asked about her.

“She was amazing Dean. You look a lot like her. She was blonde too, but your hair’s darker. Probably from Dad. She had green eyes like you too. Really green, just like yours.” It was no secret to any of them that Dean looked like Mary, while Sam looked like John. In fact, when Dean had first started showing signs of looking like their mother, John had made him get a haircut and hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes for weeks. Sam had been more than a little pissed, and Dean had been so sure that he’d done something wrong it had broken Sam’s heart. Eventually when Dean broke down and asked John what he’d done, John had looked Dean in the eye again and told him he’d done nothing wrong. Nothing at all, that Daddy was just feeling a little down. Dean had given their father a big toothy grin and an even bigger hug. Sam almost cringed at the thought of his brother so young and innocent. That had changed all too quickly. In fact, Dean almost never was innocent. His innocence had been lost when he’d been seven and a shtriga had attacked Sam and Dean hadn’t been able to shoot it because he’d been too scared. John had been livid when he’d gotten back, and he’d ripped into Dean. Screaming how could you, and that brotherly protection goes both ways, and that he didn’t deserve to be protected if he couldn’t repay the sentiment. Sam had tried to stop him, but he’d only been 11 and had been no match for John Winchester’s rage. 

“What else?” Dean asked, his voice small.

“She made the best damn pie in the world. I honestly prefer cake, you know that, but Mom’s pie was better than anything. I’m sure that’s where you get your taste for it.” Sam remembered the pie with a smile, a smile Dean shared instantly. Pie was most definitely Dean’s preference; something else he’d gotten from their mother. Even for never having known her Dean was a lot more like Mary than Sam ever was or ever would be. No, Sam was more like John if he was being honest. 

“I remember something else too. I don’t know if I ever told you this, I thought after a while that it was ridiculous, you know with everything we hunt, but every night, without fail, Mom would go into your nursery, and she’d tell you angels were watching over you.” Dean looked down again. Sam didn’t think he’d ever told Dean that. He knew he should have before then, but he’d always thought it was ridiculous. Angels? In the world of nothing but horrific monsters? Sam knew it wasn’t true, that there was no possible way. But Dean had never known she’d said that, and Sam realized then that it had been wrong to keep it from him. Dean never knew their mother; he needed all the detail he could get. 

Dean didn’t look up when he started talking again.

“I didn’t know that.”

“I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Dean. I should have. It was wrong not to.” Dean nodded. His hands were fiddling in his lap again. Sam knew this was a sign that Dean wanted to say something, something important.

“Is there anything you wanna ask?” Dean asked. Sam sure as hell hadn’t been expecting that.

“What?”

“Well I asked you something, so it’s only fair if you ask me something.” Sam recognized this for what it was. Dean wanted to talk to him about what had happened in the past three years, but he didn’t want to start the conversation. He probably didn’t know how to either. 

“Okay, um, when Dad left, did he…” Sam trailed off, not sure where exactly to start. “Did he leave you money, you know, for food and stuff?” It was a question that had been burning in his mind for a while now, ever since Dean had confessed some of the hardships of the past three years during the wendigo hunt. 

Dean nodded.

“Yeah, he did. I mean, he wasn’t about to leave me with nothing. But…”

“But what?” 

“Well he never really knew how long he’d be gone. So usually he’d give me whatever he had on him that he could spare, then he’d tell me if it ran out before he got back to just get a job and figure it out.” Sam swallowed down his rage. He couldn’t interrupt Dean. He’d leave his not so docile response for when Dean was done. “And I did, most times anyway. I’d get a job, usually at the local garage. It was harder when he first left, but as I got older it got easier to get jobs. I usually made enough money for the motel rooms or apartments or whatever I was staying in. Food too, but sometimes it was too much money, and I couldn’t make enough in time, so I’d go for a while without eating. I mean, it’s not like I ate much to begin with, but still.” Sam stared at his little brother in horror. 

“Did Dad know what was going on?” What he was doing to you.

“I never told him, it wasn’t important.” 

It took all of Sam’s will power not to explode then and there. Dean obviously didn’t think he was worth the trouble. Well that was just something Sam needed to fix right the fuck now. 

“Don’t say that Dean. It was important.” You are important. “You were going hungry Dean. That’s not okay. Dad should have been there to feed you. You were a kid Dean.” Dean bristled.

“I’m not a kid Sam. I wasn’t then, and I’m not now.” Dean’s eyes were dark and glaring. He was getting defensive because he didn’t want to feel hurt, but Sam knew he was.

“Regardless, you shouldn’t have been going hungry when you had a perfectly capable father to feed you. It’s not right Dean. Most 15 year olds don’t go hungry because their father neglects to send them money for food.” Dean didn’t even rise to the accusation. He just seemed to wilt before Sam's eyes; completely defeated. Sam was pretty sure it was the word neglect that got to him. Dean had been neglected, and now that he’d heard it out loud and couldn’t deny it, he was done, just done trying to put up a facade of nonchalance. 

“I wasn’t most 15 year olds Sam.”

“Maybe not, but you do have a father Dean, and he should have been there to help you. You shouldn’t have been put in that position, you shouldn’t have needed to do any of that, and I am so, so sorry that you had to, and that I wasn’t there to help you.” Dean had looked down again.

“You didn’t know Sam.”

“No, but if I’d bothered to call I would have.” Dean actually flinched at that. Sam realized what a sore subject this was for Dean. He’d been abandoned by the both of them, but he didn’t want to admit it. 

Sam sat next to Dean and pulled him into a hug. More physical contact, just what Dean needed. He fisted his hands in Sam’s shirt and clung to his big brother for dear life. Sam responded by holding him tighter, and rubbing his arm soothingly.

“I’m sorry Dean, I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry Dad wasn’t there. I’m sorry you were alone. It shouldn’t have been that way. I know I’ve said this before, but I will make it up to you. I’m never going to leave you again. You hear me? Never. I don’t care what happens I will always take care of you, all right?” Dean nodded into Sam’s chest. Sam started to feel wet spots on his shirt; more silent crying. 

Sam rubbed Dean’s arm and continued to hold him. All the while whispering a soothing mantra to him.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. It’s okay, I promise. It’s all right. It’s going to be all right.” Sam stayed there with Dean long after the tears stopped, and when Dean fell asleep, Sam didn’t move. It was his job as the older brother to make sure his little brother was safe and okay. It was a job he’d neglected for 3 years. It was a job he was determined never to fail at ever again.

SPN

The nightmares were back on their usual course. Sam was laying in bed, his eyes closed, only to feel something drip onto his forehead. His eyes opened and there was Jess, his beautiful, wonderful, amazing girlfriend, soon to be fiancé, pinned to the ceiling. The silent scream forever plastered on her beautiful face. The dark red blood dripping from her abdomen. Her blonde hair spread around her face like a halo. Then the fire started. It engulfed her, and Sam was pulled from his bed by Dean. He screamed and shoved at Dean, shouting at him to move, that he could still save her. This time though, Sam succeeded in shoving Dean away hard enough that he fell backwards into the flames. Dean screamed his name as he burned. Screamed at Sam to help him, to save him.

“SAM!” 

Sam awoke with a start. He was sweating and panting and all around completely frazzled. Dean’s face was so close their noses were almost touching.

“Sam?”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Personal space.” 

Dean backed up immediately. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled. 

“It’s okay.” Sam rubbed at his groggy eyes, trying desperately to get the images of both his girlfriend and his little brother burning out of his mind.

“Another nightmare?” Dean asked. Sam nodded.

“Yep.” 

“You wanna talk about it?” Sam considered saying no, he did not want to talk about the way Jess looked pinned to the ceiling, or the way Dean looked while he was burning alive, screaming at Sam to save him. But one look at Dean and Sam knew he couldn’t do that. Their trust was wavering as it was, and if he didn’t tell Dean now, Dean might think Sam didn’t trust him. 

“Sure.” Sam replied. Dean sat on the other bed and watched Sam, waiting for him to start. 

“It was Jess again. She was on the ceiling, again. She was burning, and I- I couldn’t do anything. Then you were there, you were trying to pull me out. I was fighting you, but you just kept pulling. I shoved you, and you fell. Into the fire. And I was just standing there. I couldn’t move. I was just standing there, watching you burn.” Sam’s voice cracked. He’d just watched his brother burning alive, he was just slightly distressed. Dean put a hand on Sam’s knee, reassuring Sam that he was there, solid and real; alive. He was sitting right there, not burning back in Palo Alto. 

“I’m okay Sammy. You and I got out. We’re both okay. Jess, she would have wanted you to be okay Sammy. And you are, and so am I.” Dean wasn’t the best with the sharing feelings thing. Sam knew that at least that hadn’t changed. But Dean was trying, and that in and of itself was making Sam feel better. Sam smiled.

“I know Dean.” Dean grinned.

“Good, now come on, I’m hungry and you’ve got the money.” Sam chuckled and got up to take a shower. When he finished Dean was dressed and shaking his leg impatiently.

“Come on Sammy hurry up!” Dean whined. Sam laughed and got dressed. Dean just being Dean was enough to make him feel ten times better than he had that morning. 

“All right, let’s go.” Dean shot out of the motel room with his duffle and Sam followed with his own. Dean got in the front seat of the Impala and put in an ACDC tape.

“Let’s go to a diner in the next town over and see if we can find any hot waitresses. Ooh! And pie!” Dean’s voice was light and his eyes shone with mirth. Sam laughed again as Dean turned up the tape and started singing a completely out of tune rendition of ACDC’s Problem Child.

“I’m a problem child! I’m a problem child! Oh yes I am. I’m a problem child! And I’m wild.” Sam laughed as Dean sung probably the worst version of the song Sam had ever heard. At the moment however, Sam was pretty sure it was the best thing he’d heard in awhile.


End file.
